Well, Brendan, your cat Sorsha is heading down to Florida with your Mother. It is no longer going to have to suffer me, and likewise, I am rid of all cats. This is a shot of Sorsha in its carrier on the front seat of the rental truck. I can't adequately describe the joys of feline-freedom: no more scratching and chipping away at the doors, and no more meowing at 4:00 am wanting food, and no more shredded areas of carpet, or the shedding, or the claws stuck in the screens, or the mess at the litter box, or the scratched furniture, or the chewed plants, or dashes to get out the door, or scooping poop, but other than that I had no problem with it.
Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless. Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001. It was one of those things that can generate crime: two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job. Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things. Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold. But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find. His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead. He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds. He will be paralyzed for life. None of this is pleasant. Reading the f...
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